what is the most difficult aspect of writing the fic that you're currently working on (I know you're working on multiple right now, so either one)? is there a section or line that you're especially proud of?
woo Eve, let’s see--I’ll talk about the big one, since I just talked about the WW AU. So, this fic is my submission for the SPN-J2 Big Bang, and it’s a J2 in an urban fantasy setting... and I maybe am not supposed to talk a huge amount about it, I’m realizing now, since the artist claims haven’t happened yet. Hmm. Well--it’s urban fantasy, though in a relatively normal-feeling setting, and it’s one with exclusively OCs instead of the CW-universe cast members--so, really, it’s basically just an original story that I’m making you guys read because the two main characters are very pretty and have some characteristics you’ll recognize! Ahaha, how sneaky am I. :)
I set out wanting to do something that wasn’t a meet-cute, more of a meet-awkward; I also wanted it to be something more than a love story. The most difficult aspect, I think, has been making sure the themes emerge in a way that isn’t in-your-face but also isn’t so hidden so as to be invisible to the reader. I didn’t plan this one too much, but as I wrote the things that started to be most interesting to me were... themes of class difference and paternalism, and class privilege, and a slight sidelong view at criminality/justice and what that meant, and trust. All through the lens of boy-smoochin’. It’s tough to make sure those things stay uppermost, when we’re also spending a lot of time on Jared’s little romantic heart and diving into bed every other day. We’ll see if anyone buys it, or cares about that stuff more than the boy-smoochin’. (lbr, the boy-smoochin’ is incredibly important.)
So, a section I’m proud of? Let’s do this one--a little preview, which hopefully won’t get me in trouble.
When he wakes up Jared's disoriented, hazy. Didn't realizehow tired he was. He touches his watch and the time arrives in his head—earlymorning, far too early. As he opens his eyes he remembers, and then he's sure,sinking, that of course—but, no. Jensen's getting back onto the bed, stillnaked, body all white in the moonlight drifting in over the tumble-wreckedsheets. "You should have curtains," he says, throaty with his voicedisused, and Jared watches him curl up against the pillows, just a foot away.
"I like the sun," Jared mumbles, and for somereason that makes Jensen's tiny dimples appear. He sleeps more, and wakes up tolips against his temple, and turns it into a real, sour, uncoordinated morningkiss before Jensen murmurs, "Take me home," and Jared nods, but firsthe holds Jensen long and warm, his hard bones and his soft places, perfect. Thesun's just barely creeping over the horizon, staining the wall above his bed togrey-gold, and Jensen's eyes when he pulls back are grey, too, and hard to see.
Poor Jared. Should’ve picked a less opaque prettyboy to love.
